Golden Lady
by koneko212
Summary: On a very peaceful, normal day, a beautiful, mysterious girl appears. But why is she wearing mirai Trunks' clothes and posessing his sword? Something is coming, and you guys aren't ready for it yet.
1. Sultry Summer Dayz

Hi! This is my first fic, though you may be able to tell that just by reading. I had a few problems uploading the fic, but now it's here. Whether more is posted is up to you. I hope you like!  
  
Disclaimer: I have no time to own DBZ. (Not even Goku). Too busy buying shoes.  
  
It was another peaceful yet sultry day in the dbz world. Everyone had gathered at Goku's house for a sparring match and picnic, although Goku's stomach insisted that the picnic came first, and the hungry saiya-jins were still eating.  
  
"Oh my goodness, after all my years of marriage to a saiyan I can't believe you guys ate all that food in such little time," Chi-Chi admonished, placing another steaming plate of ribs on the table.  
  
"C'mon Chi-Chi, you know we eat a lot," came Goku's muffled reply.  
  
"Be quiet Goku, you eat the most!" A frying pan made its classic appearance, and all males at the table visibly trembled.  
  
Further off, a lavender-haired adolescent (but more adult, being 19) sat, enjoying the shade of a gnarled oak. He looked up deep in thought, yet relaxed. But his many sculpted muscles that were easily seen through his Capsule Corp. T-shirt were tensed and sweaty. Any of the adults would automatically attribute it to girl troubles, and it was- sort of. He broke- off from his dazed reverie, and opened his beautiful cerulean eyes.  
  
"Hey Goten, c'mon!" he had a better way to cool off. Goten, his best friend since childhood stood amongst a bed of wild flowers, though with his new summer tan and unruly saiyan hair that fell to his mid-back, made every violet look quite tame. Bra, who was taking after her mother as a quickly blossoming 17-year-old beauty was quietly chatting with him, exerting a giggle sporadically, taken in by his earthly and natural beauty, as most girls would.  
  
"Umm. can you wait a minute Trunks?"  
  
Trunks sighed. He had felt some chemistry between his best friend and sister since they had known each other. But with the start of summer, their little flirtations and feelings were as palpable as the thick humid air. Anyone with eyes could tell it was tearing Vegeta apart to see his little girl grow up. Or rather, he wanted to tear Goten apart. And as their relationship grew, Trunks felt less like a best friend and more of an accessory to Goten's life. Now it was, "Sorry Trunks, Bra and I are going to a concert tonight. No time to spar now, I have reservations for two at your sisters favorite restaurant." An invitation was always extended but Trunks wanted no pity from them.  
  
Trunks tried to be happy for them, he wanted to be, but a natural pang of jealousy and resentment leapt at his heart when he saw them together. Goten felt the change in karma, but Trunks dismissed it as being from seeing less of him. But deep inside his inner-self gnawed away at his soul until the single, ugly truth remained: he wanted what Goten and his sister had. Getting a date wasn't the problem. His youthful outlook and exotic hair and eyes rivaled Goten's handsome and rugged physique. And though he was considered quiet and thoughtful, his bank account was deafening. The perfect guy. Unfortunately for him, too many other women thought so and he was constantly pursued by the female populace. His recent break-up with his long known friend Marron had not helped his outlook on dating.  
  
But Goten was cheerier than usual, if that was possible (he had inherited the happy-go-lucky gene from his father) and Trunks had never seen Bra so serious about a guy before, so he kept a smile on and meditated on his "girl troubles" under the oak tree for a few minutes more.  
  
His father was yelling something at Bulma and it startled him. The words, 'baka,' 'unfit,' and many other expletives grace his royal tongue. She and Goku were laughing hysterically, thus causing the enraged prince to turn red. Trunks saw that Goten would be taking longer than a "minute" so he decided to take a stroll and talk to Pan.  
  
Had Gohan really wanted a son, he still would not have been disappointed with Pan, his only child. She was as tomboyish as she wanted to be, and her saiyan temper proved to suite her well. As much as she hated dresses and stiletto heels, she loved to fight even more. But it had taken ten years to convince her overprotective father to let her train with Vegeta.  
  
"Gohan gets it from his mother," Goku explained, as he secretly taught Pan fighting basics when Gohan was out of town giving lectures, or looking the other way when Pan took one of her infamous midnight flights.  
  
But under the baggy jeans, combat boots, and bandana, Trunks could see that she was a cute 16-year-old. And strong as well, having mastered SSJ1after training for two years, which should have been impossible being a ¼ saiyan female.  
  
Boys would be calling after her soon, Trunks mused. He glanced back at his sister and wondered if it would be when she was 17, like Bra. Bra had always been a, 'fashion plate,' with her harem of boys for him and Goten to beat off, but between 16 and 17, she had matured some; she gave a different air about herself. Now men, not boys were interested.  
  
As Trunks witnessed Pan get flung into the dirt by a smirking Vegeta, and then arise with a bloody nose, only to give Vegeta an equally bloody lip, he thought Pan had a few more years to go. 'But then,' he thought to himself while grinning, 'she'll be beating off the boys by herself.' Trunks smiled. Just another day with these people.  
  
Videl began to call Pan away from her sparring match as Piccolo entered the fight. She never really got used to the tall, former Demon King, though Gohan adored and worshiped his former sensei.  
  
Just then, a blinding flash lit up the sky, and a resounding crash followed. The earth shook as mighty, ancient trees were uprooted and came careening to the ground.  
  
"What in the seven moons of Vegeta-sei was that," Vegeta demanded.  
  
"Let's go check it out," the ever friendly Goku suggested. He was happy to greet who or what ever had visited if it was a friend. And if not, he had finally finished his meal and needed to work it off anyhow. Vegeta's blood boiled for a real fight as well, where there was no need to hold back and the victor was the one still breathing. He rose into the air.  
  
"Well, what are you morons waiting for, Dende to drop down and sprinkle the forest with holy water?"  
  
Trunks joined his father in the air. "Yeah Goten. Bra will be here when you get back." Goten approached the now levitating group, slightly flustered from the negative attention. Vegeta scowled.  
  
"I'm here."  
  
But before they could take off, a girl cautiously entered the clearing. 


	2. The language barrier, and how Goku broke...

I'm going to try this again, because two reviews can get depressing. Here is the not-so -long awaited chapter two. *makes a grand bow*  
  
Disclaimer: If I owned this, wouldn't I be on Oprah by now? That's what I thought.  
  
  
  
But before they could take off, a girl cautiously entered the clearing from a grove of trees, her deep blue almost black eyes searching every person there. Trunks later said that he could take a ki-blast in the chest while starring in those eyes and not feel a thing. Her golden brown skin glowed beautifully in the sunlight and she had strait blond hair that nicely framed her heart shaped face. The newcomer was 5' something; her forehead was at about Trunks' eyes. She wore the famous Capsule Corp. denim jacket that Mirai Trunks wore and similar baggy black pants. Under the jacket she wore a black ripped tank top, exposing a fine, trim stomach lined with muscles and a belly button ring. Her whole style and air was seductive, but innocent at the same time. This caught all the fighters off guard, especially Trunks. But the real astonishment was that Mirai Trunks' sword was strapped to her back!  
  
"Who are you?" Goku asked.  
  
"Pretty golden lady." Trunks mumbled, gaining stares of everyone, including the cute blond.  
  
She looked at him shyly and said: "Babari bing?" the Z fighters exchanged puzzled looks. "Babari bing? Dami lakt saht? Jamakto sai!" She continued gesturing and pointing all over while talking in the funny language.  
  
"Guess I can't get her number," Yamcha joked. Then she embraced Trunks. She had a strong grip for such a delicate looking person, and Trunks thoroughly enjoyed the hug. After letting go of the very pleased youth, she pointed repeatedly to a diamond ring on her finger. Now that ring caught the sunlight and glinted for about two seconds. In half that time, all the women where there.  
  
"Wow, look at the size of that baby!" the saliva collecting at the corners of Videl's mouth would have dripped had not Chi-Chi nudged her.  
  
"Oh my goodness!" Bulma exclaimed. "She thinks she's married to Trunks!"  
  
"Married," Trunks exclaimed, "I think you're cute, but this is ridiculous! I don't even know you!"  
  
"Jypt hai pa!"  
  
"Oh boy." That was the best way to describe the situation. Videl was fawning over the mystery girl's diamond and Yamcha was fawning over her. Gohan was magically puling encyclopedias out of thin air trying to decipher her strange language. Chi-Chi was holding back Pan from asking the blond beauty if she had anymore belly button rings. Goku was trying to ask her for a sandwich in her native tongue but gave up. Vegeta was starring the shy girl down and claiming himself superior. Trunks was trying to recall where he had seen the girl before; Goten was stealthily peeking at her belly ring (and a couple items above it), but Bra noticed anyway and huffed off. Goten ran after her. Eighteen, Krillin, and Marron who had just shown up late for the picnic saw the commotion, turned around and left as quickly as they came- Bulma would call later, they were sure. Bulma was getting a migraine and needed to end this.  
  
"QUIET!"  
  
Humans as well as saiyans held their ears in pain, except Chi-Chi whose yell could get decibels louder than Bulma's shrill scream. Bra and Goten once again joined the group. Their little disagreement must have been settled because the lipstick marks on his lips, face, and neck was as noticeable as the lump on his forehead. For once in his life, Vegeta didn't know whether to smirk or to scowl. He sprang for an expressionless mask.  
  
"Goten and I were in the woods.uh.walking," she hastily added at her father's reproachful glare, "when we found a time machine. We recognized it from the pictures you showed us of the Hope ship Mirai Trunks had."  
  
"Hope," the girl whispered. It was as light as the air, and the wind carried her words away. Everyone's collective breaths were held.  
  
"She does speak our language."  
  
"You came from the future, no way!"  
  
She opened her mouth to speak. "Bing baht shaylan oy," she said triumphantly. "How could they get married if he couldn't understand her?" Gohan was always one to be pragmatic.  
  
Vegeta smirked. "If it's my son, I'm sure they used body language." Bulma smacked him on the back of his head. "Hey onna!"  
  
"We won't know anything until we get a translator on her." Once again, Bulma was in charge. "Trunks we have to get her to Capsule Corp., and she seems to know you." Trunks tried to grab her wrist, but she pulled away and slapped him. He pulled back, surprised that it stung. Then she babbled on in a very unpleased tone. Goku tried to grab her. She kneed him in the stomach and left him there in pain. Vegeta powered up to SSJ1 and the other saiya-jins all followed suite. She looked around and did the same, her already blond locks emitting a radiant glow and took on its spiked saiyan state.  
  
"Whoa she's a saiya-jin," Yamcha yelled as he ran for cover, "This too weird!" Yamcha lost intrest in her then. He didn't want a woman stronger than him. She wouldn't drool over his muscles or swoon from his merely human strength.  
  
"Enough of this!" Vegeta tried to punch her in the face, but he was too slow. She grabbed his arm and flipped him to the ground. Then she unsheathed her sword.  
  
"Sain babrai ath!" Gohan and Pan, finally free of her grandmother, flew at her. While she was distracted, Goku used his instant transmission, and appeared behind her. He knocked her out from behind and caught her in his arms. "She was way powerful."  
  
"Well don't wait for her to wake up. Trunks and Goten- go capsulize her time machine. Take it strait to my lab when you get there. Pan, Bra, and Videl can help Chi-Chi put away all this food and clean up. Then Goku can IT you to my place. Yamcha, tell Krillin and his family to come over."  
  
"Why all the people onna?"  
  
"Vegeta, take the girl from Goku and bring her to the lab. Gohan, follow me." The group then proceeded to carry out their assignments, like good little boys and girls.  
  
There. How was that? If you liked it, tell me. If you thought it sucked, go mail yourself to prison! They'll straighten out your negative ass. He-he, just kidding! *runs and cowers behind a rock, peeking over cautiously to look for a review* 


	3. As Angels Dream... About Chocolate Syrup...

Bulma stormed into Capsule Corp. like she owned it, which she would by next year, with Gohan close behind. "She better be on one of those lab tables by now." Fortunately, she was.  
  
"Good. Veggie did something right. Now Gohan, look at her. What do you see?" She was laid out on the table with her clothes still on. Vegeta must have taken some care, as her arms were crossed over her chest. Gohan looked questioningly at Bulma, but her face remained expressionless. 'She's been around Vegeta to long,' he thought. The girl's hair was splayed out around her head, forming a golden halo, and giving her an all around angelic appearance.  
  
Gohan frowned. "I see a very shy innocent girl who has had undeserved tribulations; tormented by inner demons- and possibly an unfaithful lover."  
  
"How do you see all that?"  
  
"She's frowning. It's like she has no good memories. Even in her sleep she has no repast, no comfort."  
  
Trunks entered. "Here's the capsule mom." He stopped by the table. "You're beautiful," he whispered. "I know I've seen you before." Trunks carefully stroked the growing lump under her blond tresses. Then, noticing that both Gohan and Bulma were staring at him, he left, a blush staining his cheeks.  
  
  
  
"Gohan did you see that? He's never looked at Marron like that in the whole seven months they've gone out. I'm a mother, I notice these things."  
  
"That isn't too good. We just met her, we don't know where she came from and when she was awake, I made an interesting observation, but I'm not sure if I'm right."  
  
"What kind of observation?"  
  
"I'm not certain, but it had to do with when she was transformed."  
  
"You noticed too? Oh Gohan, I knew you were a genius. When I inherent this company, I demand that you work for me."  
  
"But Bulma, the observation."  
  
"And I'm going to fire all those bubble gum chewing, headphone wearing, short skirted, big boobed secretary sluts-" Bulma's tirade was cut short by the mystery girl's sudden movement of stirring in her sleep. "Quick, call everybody. She's waking up!" *****************************************************************  
  
"Hurry, get the translator. She could wake up soon. And I'm sure you guys don't want to fight her again." The same members at the picnic were now reunited inside the medical wing Bulma's personal lab including the Chestnut family. Marron didn't see what the big deal was about some girl. She had blond hair like her, so what? At least hers was natural. This girls skin was a light brown, but dark enough for her to be of African -American descent. And Marron just knew that they weren't born with blond hair. So why did Trunks keep touching her hair and staring at her? He wasn't doing it openly, but she could tell. He had never acted like that with her.  
  
Vegeta scowled in Bulma's general direction. "God! That woman thinks she is boss of the world." Then he secretly smiled to himself for a second, 'just like a queen of Vegeta-sei should,' he thought before his face returned to its normal impassive state.  
  
Trunks managed to stop gazing at her long enough to get the translator for his mother. "Here's the translator mom." Vegeta snatched the contraption from his son's unprepared hand.  
  
"She does not need this thing." Bulma pulled off her classic stance and put her hands on her hips.  
  
"And why not mister? Are you going to translate for us?"  
  
"Certainly. She was only speaking in saiya-go."  
  
Gohan mentally berated himself. "Of course! Why didn't I catch it before! 'Babari' means friend. But that wasn't a word heard often among the saiyans of Vegeta-sei."  
  
Bulma cast Vegeta a warning sideways glance. "Why didn't you say anything before?" Vegeta smiled evilly.  
  
"I wanted to see how strong she was."  
  
"Oh. you bakayaro. You no-good-thinks-he-runs-everything-kusottare."  
  
"You toss out compliments like flowers in a basket, onna."  
  
"You'll be the next thing I'll toss out. You can go live in the damn woods." She then strutted away, muttering something about rewiring the gravity room.  
  
Gohan frowned. "Thanks Vegeta. You could have stopped all of the confusion and avoided a fight."  
  
"Don't talk to me like that brat. And anyway, she had a slight dialect so I didn't pick up everything she was saying. It sounded like, 'Trunks and chocolate syrup.'"  
  
All eyes, including Bulma's who had popped her head in the doorway with a screwdriver in hand were directed towards Trunks.  
  
"Hey you hentai's I just met her. Get your minds out of the gutter." Trunks felt no embarrassment and he shouldn't have. It was impossible for them to do anything like that, though he was not put off by the idea. He thought she was hot. 'And anyway chocolate syrup clashes with her skin tone. She would look much better with whipped cream and a cherry on top.'  
  
"Where did that thought come from?"  
  
As if on cue, the mysterious girl blinked, then awakened. She sat up, yawned and stretched as if she got knocked unconscious daily, and when she finally woke up, she made breakfast. She stood suddenly and appeared quite shy, not at all like the battling woman brandishing a sword they had just fought. After retreating to a vacant corner of the room, she gave herself a once-over. The way the man with the scarred face was leering at her made her uncomfortable, so at least all her clothes were on. She felt a dull, throbbing ache in her head. But no broken bones, so she was good. She looked up again, a frightened expression on her face, as if all these staring people were scary. They continued to stare. A reserved silence followed. Then, as large groups of people then to do, they all spoke at once.  
  
"Do you speak Japanese now?"  
  
"Where did you get that ring?"  
  
"Are you married to Mirai Trunks?"  
  
"What hair dye do you use?"  
  
"You're pretty."  
  
"How are you a saiyan child?"  
  
"How'd you get Trunks' sword?'"  
  
"How old were you when your mom let you get your belly button pierced?"  
  
"What hair dye do you use?"  
  
"How many languages can you speak?"  
  
"When did you become SSJ1? Can you go further?"  
  
"Does your head hurt?"  
  
"How old are you?"  
  
"What hair dye do you use?"  
  
"Are you hungry? How about an early dinner?"  
  
"Cornstalk blond? Barley? A mix?"  
  
"Where did you get the time machine from?"  
  
"Peroxide?"  
  
Now the poor girl had an understandable look of pure terror on her face. But she unexpectedly burst into laughter. Chi-Chi whipped out a thermometer and declared, "The poor thing is delusional."  
  
Trunks secretly declared her feminine laugh lively and simultaneously sexy. Finally she spoke. "No Mrs. Son. I'm fine. You are Goku's wife, are you not?" Just as it looked like she would be pelted again by many questions like they were snowballs, she held up her hand. "I'm a friend, I what I have come for is very important. I'll answer all of your questions in due time, but-" She was cut off by her tummy grumbling about her temporary hunger strike. She grinned sheepishly.  
  
"How rude of us. Follow me dear, the kitchen is this way." Bulma led her and she was close behind. She knew how easy it was to get lost in this place. Trunks immediately trailed, he found that her shapely hips made a maddeningly seductive swish that he found hard to ignore. The others looked at each other and followed, some to the kitchen with Bulma, and others went to their own devices, but all stayed near with the thought that she would eventually tell her story. Last of all exited Marron, sulking like a scolded schoolgirl all the way. ****************************************************************** 


	4. Coffee, make-up, ki-blasts and blondes- ...

Disclaimer: Don't even ask because if I owned this, I would have enough money to bribe people to leave me reviews! Um- enjoy!  
  
  
  
"Would you like some coffee?" Bulma's voice bounced off the walls of her kitchen cabinet, giving a cavernous echo.  
  
"I hate the stuff." The mystery girl was perched atop one of the kitchen stools for the island counter. She reached into one of the pockets of her baggy black pants and pulled out a compact sized mirror. Peering into it, she examined the bags under her eyes.  
  
"I'll have a nice, big cup. Black."  
  
Trunks chuckled light-heartedly from his seat next to her. With only he and Bulma in the spacious kitchen, she had opened up- a bit. She still wouldn't give her name. "All in due time," she kept saying.  
  
Bulma sat across from them as the coffee brewed. "I'm sorry, but Chi-Chi ran to the store to get food for our dinner. Saiyans tend to eat a lot so there's much food to buy. But she insists on going alone. I had to beg her to take Yamcha. He's still my friend but he would be so bored hanging around me, and Chi-Chi needs help with all those bags." 'I just convienetly forgot to mention that she would capsulize them anyway' Oh yeah, Bulma was downright evil at times.  
  
Trunks absent-mindedly gathered a blond lock and twirled it about his fingers idly. She didn't seem to mind the sudden invasion of privacy, something you would expect from a shy person. Bulma stared at the sight, her mouth hanging open. Trunks' fingers weaved intricately through the blond tresses, starting at the tips, moving upwards. When he got to her scalp, he made messaging circular patterns. From where Bulma sat, she could tell it felt good, and the girl's soft murmurs turning into purrs confirmed it. Bulma began to speculate about Trunks' expert fingers. He was only 19, and to be that good takes practice. She felt she should say something, being Trunks' mother, and what was that Gohan said about getting too attached? But she couldn't bring herself to interrupt. The moment felt so intimate and brought ideas to her mind. Where was her Vegeta anyway?  
  
"Beep! Beep!" came a harsh, shrill yell. The unwelcome sound startled Trunks and he tore his fingers from her head, hitting her bruise.  
  
"That's the coffee." Bulma rose to get it. She served the piping hot mugs to Trunks and their visitor, then took one for herself.  
  
The blond accepted her black coffee as she fingered the newly discovered bruise. "Ouch. That's why my head was hurting earlier. How'd I get it," she asked, tilting her head to the side, letting blond hair fall deliciously over her face; eyes wide and inquisitive. Oh how he longed to reach out and touch that blond hair again. It was mesmerizing. If he had seen this girl somewhere before, why hadn't he snatched her up?  
  
"Don't you remember?"  
  
She shook her head. "The last thing I remember was the crash."  
  
"You were speaking saiya-go and we had a misunderstanding. Goku had to knock you out." Trunks was glad he didn't do it. He would have rather fight Vegeta, Gohan, and Goku simultaneously than admit to this exquisite creature that he had struck her.  
  
Bra entered the kitchen- with a change of clothes, Bulma quietly noted. "Hey Trunks, Goten wants to see you."  
  
"Where is he?"  
  
"In your room." Trunks shot her a questioning look before leaving. Bra took her brother's spot at the counter, and turned towards the new girl. "Coffee? I hate the stuff."  
  
"Really? Me too. But I need the caffeine boost."  
  
"You do look like you could use a long nap," Bulma added.  
  
"Well mom, we can hide the dark circles under her eyes with God's gift to women- make-up!" Bra had out a compact, two lipstick tubes, foundation, and eyeliner. The girl gave yet another horror stricken look. She one single leap- too fast for either woman to catch- and landed across the room on their circular breakfast table, sword drawn and poised.  
  
"Don't touch me with that stuff! It itches and I hate having to wash it off!"  
  
Bra nudged her mother. "She's worse than Pan."  
  
"Honey its okay, I-we promise. We won't put any of this make-up on you." The sword faltered.  
  
"You promise?" Bulma edged closer to the table, Bra close behind.  
  
"Yes dear."  
  
Bra frowned. "There's no one to fix up around here. They're either male, already pretty, like you mommy," Bulma smiled broadly, "or afraid of any product resembling their femininity!"  
  
"Bra, honey, calm down."  
  
"It' s just not fair mommy," Bra whined, putting her face in her hands. Their visitor jumped down from the table.  
  
"I'm sorry Bra. I-I didn't know how important it was to you." Bra grinned behind her hands; she had her right where she wanted her. A true descendant of Vegeta-sei.  
  
"That's okay- because I have the perfect short sundress and matching four inch heels!"  
  
The sound of crashing plates, breaking cabinet doors, up turning of furniture, and shouts of, "Ah! I was just kidding!" and "Bra, put the lip gloss down, you're going to get us killed!" could be heard in the living room- the one on the 3rd floor with a balcony. That is exactly where Gohan was discussing the current situation with Krillin, Eighteen, Piccolo, and his father.  
  
"What's that noise?" the always curious Gohan wanted to know.  
  
Krillin reclined on one of the many soft chairs in the living room. Marron grabbed a big floor pillow, and clicked on the TV at the opposite end of the room. Eighteen walked out to the balcony. "Probably one of Bulma's experiments. That's how she usually passes the time."  
  
Piccolo joined them, coming from his secluded corner of the room. "What about time? This girl is keeping us waiting and I for one am tired of it." Goku placed a strong hand his shoulder- at which the tall green namek rolled his eyes.  
  
"Patience Piccolo."  
  
"Patience my foot! She's being too damn mysterious for me. She comes unannounced-out of nowhere. We should be getting answers, not having her place orders like she's at restaurant."  
  
"Piccolo has a point there," Krillin added. "There's so many questions-"  
  
"Which she already said she would answer." Gohan paced about the room to think. "And its Bulma's house. If she wanted to serve her tea on the roof and not get any answers for a week- she could."  
  
"That's true also," the amiable Krillin stated. He heard the TV click off, and saw his daughter leave the room.  
  
"She came here to us wearing Mirai Trunks' clothes and possessing his sword. When he came it was to warn us, help us change the future."  
  
Piccolo cut in. "So don't you think Gohan, she should tell us right away?" Gohan's scientific mind was working in overdrive.  
  
"But I don't think that's what she came for. I think she needs our help. If she came from the future, it is a bleak and broken world- who knows what happened."  
  
"If she needs help, why isn't she asking for it?"  
  
"That's a good question dad."  
  
Krillin leaned on his elbow. "Women can be strange. Perhaps she doesn't know how to ask."  
  
Goku scratched his head. "You mean like she's ashamed?"  
  
"Maybe. It might have something to do with Trunks. I don't know."  
  
Eighteen strolled back inside. Apparently, she had heard the whole conversation. "Maybe it's because she's from the future, and there's a good reason we shouldn't know yet." She had that cold, sharp voice that made you feel foolish for having her explain the situation to you. "Trunks came from a bleak, dismal future, risking his life twice in a time machine to make our lives better, and we waited for him. If she has her reasons, let her have her reasons." Her voice got softer, the voice she used when she told her daughter and husband that she loved them. "She deserves a chance because he gave us a second one so long ago." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "And if you don't agree with me, think of the children you would never have. I do everyday." She let her words sink in for a bit. "That noise you heard was from the kitchen Gohan." Her voice was back to its normal, steel yet cynical tone. "I'm going to see what Bulma and our girl of the hour are up to now." With that, Eighteen left the now quiet room. *****************************************************************  
  
Trunks approached his room and knocked. "Come in," Goten's voice was loud even with the door closed. "You don't have to knock to enter your own room silly." Trunks opened the door, and there was Goten perched on his bed.  
  
"Bra said you wanted to see me."  
  
"Yeah. This whole thing is so crazy."  
  
"It is crazy."  
  
"I mean, this chic comes crashing down to earth like a-"  
  
"Like a fallen angel."  
  
"There's the component that makes this situation even crazier still. You're acting like she's been here all you're life, not just some odd 4 hours ago."  
  
"I am Goten, and it's driving me crazy. Everyone thinks I'm crazy. But I know I've seen her somewhere before. And the most infuriating thing is her hair."  
  
"Her hair?"  
  
"Color me crazy, insane, whatever you want, but her hair is enchanted or something. It hypnotizes me. I look at it, and I just want to grab it."  
  
"You were messing with it a lot. Very noticeable. It is cool though. And you've always had a thing for blondes. Does Marron ring a bell?"  
  
"But it was a different attraction there. I can't explain it, but their hair is so different."  
  
"Oh yeah I see what you mean. One's hair is blonde. The other's is hmmm. what do you know? It' s blonde too!" Trunks had never heard Goten use so much sarcasm in one breath.  
  
"That's not funny."  
  
"I'm sorry man- really. The hair is cool- especially with her skin. But I've never seen a girl look so good in another guys clothing." Trunks nodded in agreement. "And the belly ring is a plus- I'm trying to get Bra to get one."  
  
"My parents would give you a slow and painful death."  
  
"I know. But it would be worth it to play with that belly ring."  
  
"I'm serious Goten! My dad is looking for any good reason and opportunity to kick your ass. Don't give him one."  
  
"Just kick my ass," Goten speculated. "You mean as in not kill me? I knew Vegeta liked me."  
  
"Be serious Goten." Goten laid down on Trunks' bed covered with dark blue sheets- almost the color of his fallen angel's eyes, he noted.  
  
"Trunks, I'm serious as well. I know she's two years younger than I am but I can't help it. She's the only one, excluding Pan that I can talk to without getting nervous. Plus she's funny, smart, charming, beautiful.the list goes on and on." They did make a cute couple, Trunks admitted.  
  
"She's serious about you too, Goten. Just don't do anything stupid. Because if I ever have to choose between you and Bra, I'm killing you both."  
  
"I'll definitely keep that in mind." Trunks spun in the swivel chair he was occupying. Funny, he never used it for his desk to do his schoolwork. That was because it was usually covered with clothes or things he didn't feel like putting away. But now in his first year of college, he had a dorm room, and came home for the whole summer. He had to. He had missed everyone, even his taciturn father.  
  
"By the way, you two weren't doing anything on my bed were you?"  
  
"No. Nothing like that."  
  
"I just thought it weird that you two would be in my room instead of hers. And I don't want to have to burn my bed or anything," Goten rolled over on his stomach.  
  
"Ha ha. We were in her room. But asking for you here sounds less suspicious." Goten grinned wolfishly.  
  
"And everyone thinks you're the nice innocent one," Trunks laughed.  
  
"Well you're certainly not either," Goten chided. "Now tell me about the way she sounded when she purred.  
  
******************************************************************  
  
"Onore!" Getting punched in the jaw three times successively by Vegeta would make a normal human person unable to talk, let alone move. However, it just made Pan very irritable.  
  
"Now, now brat. What if your father heard such language from his baby girl?" Vegeta was suspended in mid-air, tauntingly wagging a finger. Pan pushed herself off the ground slowly. 200 times gravity seemed heavier today.  
  
"My father isn't here, Vegetable-head." Pan smirked, knowing that the hated nickname would make him lose his cool façade. It worked.  
  
"Nande kuso!" Vegeta charged up quickly, sending a small ki-blast to Pan's head. It was calmly deflected. Now Vegeta sent a much larger blast, one bigger than Pan herself.  
  
"Kuso! Vegeta!" She dodged, narrowly missing the blast, only to be kneed in the stomach. Pan automatically kicked him in the crotch, buying time to catch her breath. The gravity was really getting to her, and that was unusual. They normally would train in 300g's; today they were taking it light. But light with Vegeta was two tons. Pan was snapped out of her thoughts by a landing kick to the head, from guess who?  
  
"Never let your guard down brat." That was one of her first lessons, and she had learned very quickly. It was amazing how spitting out teeth helps you to remember. Gohan had almost banned her from training ever again after seeing how dilapidated and scruffy she was that first day. It took five cartons of rocky road ice cream to calm him down and Goku's astute observation that Pan was still smiling.  
  
Pan sprang up quickly this time, immediately dealing out a roundhouse kick that Vegeta blocked. He had dodged exactly where she had expected, and she was ready with a fairly large ki-blast to the chest. The well-built impassive saiyan bounced off the floors of his pristine white gravity shrine. But Pan knew there was still much fight left inside the warrior. "Ahh!" Letting out a primal yell, the teenage girl transformed to SSJ1, her black hair now blonde and spiky; her black pupils now turquoise. "Alright Vegeta. Now its time for me to teach you a lesson."  
  
******************************************************************  
  
Well, how was that? I thought that it was a bit longer, and one of my favorite non sequitor pieces. More sillyness and fluff to come! And if you're really good with reviews, I'll start writing- errr- posting a plot. Ja ne! 


	5. "WHAT THE HELL ONNA!"

Hey! No, I haven't died, yet anyway. But for my few but loyal reviewers, I locked myself in my room until I had this chapter finished! Enjoy!!!  
  
Disclaimer: No I don't own this. I only own my bolder, and even that's suing me for custody rights. Aww, it's just sore because I didn't take it for its walk yesterday.  
  
  
  
  
  
****************************************************************** Eighteen walked down the main grand stairwell, steps unheard because of the soft royal blue carpeting. She gave a sigh of relief upon entering the main living room because it had taken her 20 minutes longer than necessary to get there.  
  
"Too many damn rooms," she muttered, plopping on an overstuffed sofa. She preferred the two-floored island home. It was just the right size for her family of three; no one ever got lost, with the exception of infamous Turtle Hermit when he 'accidentally' wandered into the bathroom while she was occupying it; and because of the small house, it didn't promote get- togethers like these. If Goku and Krillin weren't good childhood friends, she wouldn't have come. After breaking up with Trunks, she doubted that Marron was totally thrilled to be making an appearance either. But she was curious about the girl.  
  
"AHHH! Hey, that dress was new!"  
  
"I said get back-" The sound of an antique china plate smashing into pieces caught Eighteen's attention. She stood and proceeded to enter the kitchen through the double doors (at least she hoped the kitchen was behind the double doors) but with her intensified hearing, she picked up a low growl. Following the sound, she spotted an easel with a canvas upon it, all the way across the ridiculously sized living room in front of a big bay window. Approaching carefully, Eighteen saw that Videl was behind the easel. She was very wrapped up in a painting, her light blue eyes squinting in concentration while she twirled a paintbrush. After a few terse minutes, she made three deliberate strokes with it. A look of satisfaction followed by a smirk. Eighteen turned not wanting to disturb her but was stopped as she let out a sneeze. Videl was abruptly shaken from her task at hand.  
  
"You scared the crap out of me!" always stoical, Eighteen crossed her arms.  
  
"My bad, I just didn't know that you painted."  
  
"Well it was just something on the side when Pan started going to school and things got quiet and boring around the house. It's very relaxing."  
  
"Good for a situation like this."  
  
"Yeah." The raven- haired beauty stood and stretched. Anyone she just met would think that she was Pan's elder by two years or so, not her mother, 20 years her senior.  
  
Another wine glass shattered against the kitchen floor, its echo resonating into the spacious room they were occupying, followed by shrieks, then silence.  
  
"I wish they would keep it down in there, whatever they're doing."  
  
"You mean you haven't gone in?"  
  
"After marrying into this group of family and friends, I've learned to open my paints in a time of crisis, keep my ears open, my spirits up, and never, ever enter a room that Bulma Briefs is occupying when there's the sound of broken dishes."  
  
"Good advice. Um- may I see your painting?" Videl was to say the least taken aback. She had started this hobby when Pan was six, and not once had anyone known or cared about her paintings.  
  
"Uh sure." She held her breath awaiting criticism. The paintbrush was rolled between her thumb and forefinger nervously. Eighteen's eyes widened in shock. It was the girl, after she had transformed. The golden aura had made her look like an angel. The hair was almost exact, but something was missing. Overall, the painting was so real, so alive, she felt that she had been there when she transformed. And Videl had gotten her eyes just right. They looked so distressing as if untold tragedy was part of her being. It made part of Eighteen want to hold her and tell her that everything would be alright, even if it wouldn't, like when Marron had come home crying after her breakup with Trunks.  
  
When she didn't answer, Videl became nervous. "I-I know it doesn't have a background yet or anything, and the colors are flat."  
  
"It's beautiful." For the first time, the android was silent, not by choice but by the breathtaking beauty of the artwork. "Don't change anything. The hair-"  
  
"I know, I couldn't get it right."  
  
"I was going to say that the greatest artist in the world couldn't capture the luminescence of her hair. The picture looks professional. And you've never had a lesson?"  
  
"Well, no."  
  
"Incredible. Videl, you should share your paintings. I would like to see more."  
  
"You honestly think so?" Eighteen nodded "I have a private studio- well I work on and keep all my paintings in the garage and pretend it's a studio."  
  
"I know that you would do well." The two women shared a warm moment, one that would result in secret smiles, knowing glances, and a life-long friendship.  
  
The clatter of cabinets and a golden glow coming from the room ended the silence. Videl started to pack up her paints.  
  
"Well I'm going to find a better place to paint. Good luck."  
  
"Thanks." Eighteen walked through the double doors that with any luck would lead to the kitchen. ************************************************************************  
  
The gravity room had survived another day of Vegeta training. With the GR set to zero, it's two main tormentors rested on the floor, cut, bruised, and bloodied. With a little bit of pain, possibly from a bruised rib, Pan pushed herself up to a sitting position.  
  
"Some workout, eh?"  
  
"Actually, I've seen better from you." A less beaten Vegeta managed to stand, and crossed his muscular arms.  
  
"I know. We trained at 200 g's, but it felt heavier than usual."  
  
"Stop making excuses for yourself brat. Something's on your mind, and it distracted you." Pan looked down and silently cursed. How did he always know so much about what was bothering her? It was he who made her admit her feelings for Marron, and told her she shouldn't feel ashamed, though Pan could never tell her.  
  
"It's about that new girl."  
  
"Kami! Don't tell me you have a crush on her too!" Pan blushed ferociously, so much blood rushing to her cheeks she thought they would explode.  
  
"Vegeta, I didn't say that!" She fought to control her breathing.  
  
The Prince merely chuckled. It never failed to amuse him at how such a strong girl, physically and personality-wise, could be reduced to a panting, blushing, trembling pathetic child with breasts. 'It's probably those annoying human genes the hybrids have', he thought.  
  
She stood up, her face no longer red with embarrassment, but with anger. "I never said that Vegeta. I choose to confide in you because I thought I could trust you with my secret. I thought you would be honorable enough to not exploit my feelings for Marron. You can't mention it so casually, no other soul knows." That comment about honor got to Vegeta, as she knew it would.  
  
"I am too honorable, onna!" Pan couldn't help but laugh. He sounded like Bra when she didn't get her way. "Whatever, brat. So why is the girl on your mind?"  
  
" I'm just so curious about another female saiyan. She's older, I think, and she might be stronger, but I doubt it." At that Vegeta chuckled. She could be so saiyan at times. " And I'd like to fight her."  
  
"That would be interesting. It would be even more interesting if you did like her. Imagine, what if she is from the future and you both got attracted. When she left you both of you would be heart and soul broken."  
  
"Poor Trunks then"  
  
"Yes," he hissed. "That brat is setting himself up." He scowled and after a few minutes of silence, it turned into a smirk. "It would have been interesting to see you and her mate though. Female saiyans in heat are very amorous and horny, twice as so as the men. You two would never make it out of bed!"  
  
Pan's once fading blush returned full force. "Vegeta, would you please stop talking about stuff like that?"  
  
"Why not? You're 16. Grow up. Like you never think about sex." Pan's eyes became as big as saucers.  
  
"I an so not having this conversation with you of all people."  
  
"Would you rather have it with Marron?" Pan was no longer discussing the topic. She buried her face in her hands and did not look up.  
  
Vegeta sighed. "I'll go get the girl, brat. Be ready to fight a saiyan female. ************************************************************************  
  
Ironically enough, the double doors did not lead to the kitchen. This extremely angered the android, and after ten more minutes of aimless searching, Eighteen doubled back to the living room, then blasted a hole through the wall- her only obstacle to the kitchen. As she was climbing through the wall Vegeta entered through the back door. He barely glanced at the Eighteen sized hole in the wall. Bulma was to say the least 'more expressive' with her feelings.  
  
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"  
  
"You needed a door there anyway. Most people have doorways to connect adjoining rooms, or at least I've heard." She absently brushed a stray strand of pale cornstalk hair out of her face, obviously unaffected by the hostility in Bulma's voice. "And shouldn't I be asking what you're doing?" She nodded in the direction of the newly renovated kitchen.  
  
It was only a mess if you cocked your head to the side and squinted really hard. The inside of the fine oak cabinets was exposed because of cracked or missing doors, a few barley swinging by their hinges. It didn't matter because most of what the cabinets once held was on the floor; china plates, bulky gold chalices that were never used, her favorite crystal wine glasses, all shattered, most beyond recognition. The few chairs and a table were toppled over. Well, the table looked as though it was pushed over for protection, somewhat like a makeshift fort. Besides dishes and cabinet doors, dust covered the black marble floors, making it a charcoal gray. And in the middle of it were Bra and the mystery girl, ensnared within each other's grasp wrestling. The blonde had Bra in a choke hold, and Bra had her in an equally painful vice, pulling her hair, all the while mumbling about 'split ends', and 'needs conditioner.'  
  
Vegeta looked remarkably calm and placid as he yelled, "WHAT THE HELL ONNA!"  
  
"He, he," was all the genius who always had something to say was able to squeak out at the moment. Vegeta just humped.  
  
"Brat, get off my daughter or answer to me." The girl quickly complied, shoving Bra off of her and jumping off what remained of the poor, abused piece of furniture. "Now follow me. Pan wants to fight you." Vegeta made no acknowledgement to the android or his mate, but simply exited out the back door. Lunch was obviously out of the question. The girl picked up her sword, and followed the temperamental saiyan. She didn't have to know him long to know that he wasn't one to be kept waiting.  
  
Bra slid off the table, dusting herself off and left through a doorway grumbling about cosmetics and a change of clothes  
  
The two women in the kitchen alone just looked at one another in silence for five minutes. "Let's never speak of this again."  
  
"Agreed." Eighteen replied, and she climbed back through her impromptu doorway, leaving Bulma to figure out how to clean up the mess, how Chi-Chi was going to make dinner, and whether even she, the richest woman in the world had enough money to order pizza for seven humans and eight saiyans. ************************************************************************  
  
"SHE DID WHAT!!!" Chi-Chi's scream felt too loud and large for even the spacious kitchen.  
  
"Well Chi, things got out of hand. It looks worse than it really is," Bulma lied through her teeth."  
  
"I'll say!"  
  
Yamcha who stood at the opposite end of the kitchen away from the back door, clamped his hand over his ears. He had to listen to that noise for two hours. She always found some obscure reason to yell at him, like, 'Yamcha put that down', or, 'Leave that girl at the cash register alone', and, 'Don't touch my ass Yamcha!.' Dumb petty stuff like that. 'Damn,' he thought, 'she's still talking. I've got to get away before she notices me or Bulma gives me some stupid chore to do again.' He frantically looked for an exit. Not caring where it led, and stepping over broken plates and chairs he slunk through the nearest passageway. ************************************************************************  
  
Vegeta walked into his room of solace. He smirked, proud that Pan had risen from her knees and stood to face her opponent. The blonde soon followed, her sword sheathed on her back. Pan turned the gravity up to 50g's, thinking she had never experienced a GR room before. The girl swayed under the sudden pressure then braced herself. Vegeta eyed her warily.  
  
"Brat, stop acting. You've trained in a gravity room since for at least the last five years of your life." She grinned sheepishly.  
  
"You caught me Vegeta. How?"  
  
"You have your secrets. I have mine. Pan turn it up to 300." He threw her a sensu bean. "Might as well make it a fair fight." The girl unsheathed her sword, deftly tossing it to each hand, then getting into a fighting position.  
  
"I would have it no other way." Pan, now fully generated did the same.  
  
"As would I, blondie. Let's get this party started." ************************************************************************  
  
"Hello? Tony's Pizza? Please hold? Okay." Bulma was reclined on one of her favorite chairs in her personal sector of her lab. She kept a room there for when she had to pull all-nighters and was too tired to find her room. Next to her was Chi-Chi, much calmer due to a tea Bulma had prepared over a Benson burner, another technique developed spending nights asleep at the console.  
  
"Hey? Okay, I would like 220 pizzas please. Hold again? Okay." The very faint sounds of robots laboriously cleaning the kitchen could be heard from where she sat. "Thank Kami for science and technology," she muttered. But the 'cleaning' was basically throwing everything broken out. Oh well. That meant furniture shopping! She squealed at the thought, nearly dropping the phone and waking Chi- Chi who had fallen asleep.  
  
"Hello? Yes? No, this is not a joke! What? Look buster, you're pushing it! Do you know who you're talking to? Bulma Briefs, that's who! Stop laughing you jerk, I have eight saiyans to feed! I'll make sure I'll never order form you guys again! Ever!" Bulma clicked off her cordless phone, and threw it. Chi-Chi caught it with minimal effort. It was her turn to be calm.  
  
"I'm taking it that they laughed at you again?"  
  
"Yes," she pouted, "That was the sixth one!" Chi-Chi looked through the phone book.  
  
"How about I try this time, and you have some calming tea?" Chi- Chi poured a tiny cup, then gave Bulma the rest of the post.  
  
"Ha, ha," the blue haired beauty replied sordidly. But she removed the lid and began to sip. Chi-Chi dialed.  
  
"Hello? San Gorgio's Pizza? Hi doll, I'm a receptionist for the Capsule Corporation." Bulma's eyes widened at Chi-Chi's seductive tone. "We're having a luncheon today, and all of our cooks got ill with the palynokimetian flu. Never heard of it? Very rare. So with such a large order, we could think of no other pizza shop competent enough to handle it. I would like 20 mushroom, 20 onion and green pepper, 60 cheese, 60 pepperoni, and 60 sausage pizzas, all extra large. Oh you're such a sweetie, so nice. How much will that be? Okay. Get it here in an hour and we'll throw in a $50-dollar tip! Thank you so much. What? No, sorry dear, I'm taken and I have the ring to prove it. Bye-bye now."  
  
Chi-chi smiled. "They'll be here in an hour, have $1,810 ready." Bulma was snoring, teapot in hand. ************************************************************************  
  
Vegeta stood there, dark brooding unreadable eyes contrasting with the white walls of his sacred temple. At that moment with his muscular arms crossed, he seemed as impassable and impenetrable as a mountain. And he was, because he was watching the most spectacular sight that no other saiya- jin could boast to have witnessed it. Two female super saiyans were fighting in his GR room.  
  
For a while, neither girl moved the power around them sporadically causing lightning. Their blonde spiked hair stiffened, some strands defying gravity. Aqua eyes peered at each other relentlessly, searching, for what? A weakness, fear perhaps? No. They were waiting. Then, an unseen, unheard signal was given and they began to fight fervently.  
  
When they first started, they were goofing around, sizing each other up and they both knew it. But the fight had turned serious now that they realized they were so alike, in skill, struggles, and personality. And for the remainder of this fight one would resent the other with equal fervor.  
  
So they continued to fight, blow for blow, blocking, and each waiting for the other to tire or get sloppy defensively. But it never happened. So they still fought regardless of how long and the toll it took on their teenage bodies, neither consenting nor conceding, neither ready to admit how tired they were after two hours strait of sparring with the only break being when they powered up to SS1. And Kami knew that both would rather have their fingernails pulled out one by one than to request a draw.  
  
Their saiyan prince stared on, completely awed as he felt his heritage come alive again. Watching Pan fight brought him great pride, but seeing the blonde fight stirred his soul. For a minute, he was in the palace halls where he spent his premature youth. In all of his nostalgia, Vegeta failed to detect their rapidly fading ki.  
  
The two girls were about to pass out from exertion if they kept their SS1 forms a minute longer. But Vegeta was reminiscing, almost hallucinating. He ran down the palace halls, his destination unknown. He heard a voice, it was his mother's. "Vegeta!" she called. He tried to face her but no matter how he turned, he couldn't see directly behind him, where she was located. He kept running. "Vegeta, do not let your pride overtake you! It will poison you! Let me save you now, as I failed to so long ago!" He tried to go back to her, to be her little boy again, but Freiza pushed her and stood in his path. "Mother!" he cried. "Vegeta," she wailed as she fell into the darkness, his only glimpse of her being her tan skin and stringy hair. "Vegeta! Vegeta . . . "  
  
"Vegeta! Pan! Dinner is here! The call for food ended the fight and Vegeta's vision. Now he knew for sure. But just as he felt the vision, he also felt compelled to wait for the right time. He finally noticed the girls who dropped from SS1, silently thanking Bulma. The three saiyan-jins left the white fighting temple, forgetting to shut off the gravity, each putting their culture aside in lieu of food.  
  
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How was that for a bedroom recluse? In my fit of diligence, not only did I start and finish chapter six, but I also started a new fic. Aren't I great! Keep your eyes peeled. Actually, doesn't that sound disgusting? So just keep looking for a new Pan drama. I know, I know, aren't there enough? But I promise it will be very different. I'll post it the same time as chapter six. I'm so excited. Please check it out! All right, back to my bolder to check for reviews. Ja ne! 


	6. Getting to know you, getting to know all...

Hi everyone, long time, no see, eh? I'm sorry. I just can't find the time, but I'll do my best. Also, my Pan drama is almost halfway written, but the points of view shift so often that I must write it out completely and look at it before I post anything. So look for it soon, but not too soon.  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own, and if I did, I'd sue the kid who wrote this crap using my ingenious characters. (Oh, that's still me) ************************************************************************  
  
  
  
The group was assembled in one of the larger family rooms, all temporality putting their issues and differences aside for pizza. The room was fairly loud between the T.V and video games on the other television, talking, and the sounds of Goku eating. But it was a cheerful din, one easily tolerated. For a brief moment, everyone was happy.  
  
Oh, wait, screw that. Piccolo didn't need to eat, so he could care less, and he left, pissed that the room didn't have a balcony.  
  
Goku and Vegeta were having a pizza-eating contest, a game in their opinion that had no losers.  
  
Gohan and Videl sat by the window, his arms securely wrapped around her waist, her easel in front of them. After witnessing the painting, he was enraptured by it.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me that you had all these wonderful paintings?"  
  
"You never asked."  
  
"I have to see them when we go home tonight."  
  
"Why, have I inspired you to forget your books and become an artist?"  
  
" Nah, but I figure I get good enough, I can convince you to pose for a nude portrait." He smiled evilly. She loved it when he did that.  
  
" You don't need a paintbrush to get me out of my clothes," she whispered seductively.  
  
The results of their ardent affection, otherwise known as Son Pan, was trading recent battle scars with the blonde while watching television with Goten. At the other TV, Trunks and Marron were playing Street Fighters II. Marron was whooping Trunks unmercifully. 'Now if only I could do this in real life', she thought bitterly. Apparently, their breakup hadn't been too friendly.  
  
Her father was talking to the magically reappearing Yamcha. Eighteen sat with Bulma and Chi-Chi who were talking about something, she wasn't listening. She would much rather be with Videl, but she currently wrapped up in a painting and her husband. She could barely see them for they were at the other end of the room. 'Damn, this place is a claustrophobic's wet dream,' she thought angrily as she chomped on another slice of pizza.  
  
So not everyone was happy, but they had their minds off the mystery girl for now, and that was the way the blonde wanted it. They were anxious and full of questions. Would they be able to handle the answers? More importantly, was she? Although shy, she was never known to be a coward. Standing abruptly, gaining the attention of those near her, she declared in her loudest voice yet,  
  
" It is time."  
  
And everyone knew exactly what she meant. **********************************************************************  
  
Once again, all were assembled in yet another living room. This one had a balcony, and the sliding glass doors let through the sun's final rays before itself retired and let the moon rule the night. Orange, reddish, and rosy hues filled the room, bouncing off the walls and some glowing onto her, giving the blonde a warm, fuzzy feeling inside, very unfamiliar but very welcome.  
  
"It's beautiful," she whispered.  
  
Trunks who was sitting next to her, leaned forward. "So are you," came his faint reply, his voice snapping her into the real world.  
  
She slowly looked around the room, at the people who formed a semi-circle around her with their chairs, her eyes searching. Some eyes were bright and innocent. Others dark, clouded with unforgettable misery in their past. A few eyes sparkled with curiosity. One set of blue eyes were intently focused upon her, a growing love in them she was trying to ignore and not reflect back.  
  
All of these souls waiting for her to speak. And so she did.  
  
"I know you all have questions. But let me just tell you the story first, the story of my life. The beginning is where all stories start, and it will help you better understand this so we can all create an ending to our liking."  
  
All eyes still on her, no one moved; none spoke.  
  
"As you all know, the tyrant Frieza blew up the planet Vegeta-sei, killing all its inhabitance, excluding Goku, Nappa, Raditz, and the Prince. However there was another who lived. Not by luck, or fate, or twisted favor from Frieza. She had the gift of physic powers, and saw the future of her doomed planet. She could have warned her people, they trusted in her powers, and knew what she could do. But her malicious heart thought only of herself. And so by paying a very dear price, she obtained the secret of black magic to not only find out the exact date and time of Vegeta-sei's destruction, but to prevent anyone who suspected the tyrant of foul play of telling the king. For some unknown reason, she abhorred royalty.  
  
She fled the morning of, so no one would notice a missing pod, or care for that matter. No saiyan witnessed her departure. But the heavens above see everything. They knew her heart and felt the evil living inside of it that ate at her soul because of the dark magic she had called upon. Those in heaven wept at this evil that would have her betray her own people, and I cry out at night as well, for this woman was my mother."  
  
Short gasps were made at this comment. The eyes most widened in shock. Some urged her to continue. A few held pity, and others contained wariness, would the evil that her mother possess lie within her also? But the eyes that were the most haunting were Vegeta's. His eyes burned; seethed with hatred and rage. Not directed at her - it was for the kingdom and the people he lost that could have been saved had they knew when her mother had- and so she felt the burn anyhow. She could not gaze at those tormented depths any longer, so she dropped it.  
  
"After running out of fuel, she floated for months. She should have starved to death, but those, which put life into her, still had another purpose for her. So instead of perishing, she was put into a cryogenic sleep, freezing her, pausing her life systems, and suspending the aging process. Very rarely do they interfere in businesses down here, but when they do, it's for something very important.  
  
She must have been a piece of vegetable space junk for, let's see. Vegeta was eight when the planet was destroyed, right? When she was finally revieved, the first planet she came across was earth. In my timeline Vegeta was 24 when she landed. So that's-"  
  
"Sixteen years," Gohan said eager for her to get on with the story.  
  
"Yeah. So when she landed, she followed the usual ritual of saiyans and tried to conquer earth. But against the Z shenshi consisting of Super saiyan Goku, Gohan, and Vegeta, she didn't stand a chance. Because she did not kill anyone, just blew up a few houses in a small village, they let her live. Who knows, Vegeta might have been my daddy if she played her cards right!"  
  
Bulma subconsciously growled, Bra giggled, and Trunks grimaced. She could've been his sister. "I would never bond with that unworthy piece of trash!"  
  
Goku frowned. "That's still her mother, Vegeta."  
  
She gave Goku a gracious, thankful smile. "That's okay, I understand. I am not responsible for the actions of one who came before me. As for the Z shenshi, she fabricated some tale of her survival. They never knew her evil deeds, and so she was accepted into their group, but she avoided Vegeta at all costs. She trained with them, and almost became a super saiyan. But she had lost all of her physic powers. Never again did she have a vision. If she had still obtained them, she would have known the coming of the androids, and would have probably left another doomed planet. But as fate had it, she stayed and eventually got married. The next year, she had me.  
  
When I was seven, the androids struck. My father volunteered to fight, trying his best to hide his wife and I. They both knew of her strength, but he thought it best that his daughter had her mother. But the androids found her first. She died trying to protect me, the first honorable deed accomplished in her life. Ironically enough, her evil malicious, tainted heart was ripped out of her own chest and crushed by one who had no heart at all."  
  
She looked directly at Eighteen as she said it. Eighteen crossed her arms in her usual complacent manner, but her eyes had visible hurt and compassion. Her eyes, and more importantly, her heart held emotions such as love, forgiveness, humility, and grace. She was forgiven for her deeds a long time ago.  
  
"But that was a different world," she finished gently. "Things turned out much better here." She took a deep breath, and continued. "It was my father who told me of my heritage. He was killed a few years after my mother.  
  
Being trained in some martial arts I could protect myself, and at the ripe old age of nine, I wandered a broken world, without anyone. I kept my ki low as to not stand out to the androids, walked from destroyed town to town, searching for the rumored underground city. I did eventually find it, and it turned out in my world that Videl was the mayor of it. It was one of the only places not discovered by the androids. She had a very big family of eight children."  
  
"Wow," was all Gohan and Videl could manage to say. Gohan shot her a questioning look, and she vigorously shook her head. 'Ha! Eight saiyan children in one house, what do they think I'm on?'  
  
As if reading her mind the blonde said, "Videl was a firm believer in replenishing earth's sparse population. She took me into her already large home, and I became a part of the family. But one day, she told me of a boy that had defeated the androids and thought he might know my powers and show of strength better than I.  
  
I had never been taught how to scan for ki, but in a couple of days I located him. He was helping rebuild West Capitol." 'And after he took off his shirt, I knew I was following him home.'  
  
"So I followed him home, which he knew I was doing, and after six years of living with Videl, I moved in with Bulma and Trunks at Capsule Corp."  
  
She searched the eyes. They told the truth. She had told more than she wanted to already; these people were smart and could put two & two together. But the eyes were still needy, still questioning. The blonde braced herself for the onslaught of questions to come.  
  
"You don't look very saiyan to me brat." Flames still lingered in Vegeta's stare.  
  
"Neither do your own brats," she quipped. "But I have proof." The back of the knee of her baggy black pants twitched. Then the twitch moved upwards, past her thigh, then over her butt, then a slender light brown furry tail wormed its way out of her pants.  
  
"Convinced?" She swung it around for emphasis, then wrapped it around her waist. It was Gohan's turn. " How old were you when you first met Trunks?"  
  
"Sixteen."  
  
"So now you're-"  
  
"I'm eighteen." Trunks scratched his head. She looked 16 to him. Maybe it was her tomboyish clothes.  
  
Videl piped up. "So Mirai Trunks gave you the ring?" The blonde smiled, knowing how Bulma and Chi-Chi's interest peaked at the mentioning of the ring.  
  
"Yes he did. Believe it or not, he found it. Bulma knew a jeweler, so he secretly had it appraised and set. Then he gave it to me." She looked at it fondly.  
  
The women sighed. "How romantic!" Bulma was a sucker for things like that, considering she never had a ceremony, let alone a ring.  
  
"So you guys are married then." Coming from Bra, it sounded more like a statement, not a question. But they waited with baited breath anyhow.  
  
"Well. . ." She nervously twisted the beloved ring around her finger and bit her lip. "It's complicated."  
  
A chorus of 'oh's, and 'I see's filled the room, and the many eyes now adverted themselves with the exception of Trunks'. The question made his blood boil, and he wouldn't put it past Bra to ask it just to piss him off. But her response left an opening. A small one, but he wasn't going to let it go.  
  
He looked over to her, she was flustered with embarrassment. What had gone on between her and his future counterpart? If others had been speculating upon that matter, a bellowing Piccolo soon interrupted them.  
  
"Enough with the chit-chat! This isn't Oprah! I don't care who's screwing whom! Why are you here?"  
  
An unreadable expression crossed the girl's face. Then, a cocky grin. "There now Piccolo. Patience is a virtue." Her placid response amused even eighteen. "And I thought you Nameks were so calm and docile. But you should know why I'm here. And yes I need your help. Just as the world was beginning to be repaired and turn itself right side up, a disease struck.  
  
It's a rare virus that attacks your immune system and makes it work against the body God intended for it to protect. The 1st sign of the virus is the palynokimetian flu."  
  
"What!" Chi-Chi interjected. "I was on the phone today and I swore I made it up. It's the name of the flowers that used to grow around my castle as a little girl. My mother loved them. We called them paly's for short."  
  
"Yes, that is what the flu is named after because the flower is an essential ingredient of the medicine for it. We searched for months, but after the destruction from the androids, it's extinct in our world. Bulma tried to find an alternate cure, but she soon got sick. It hasn't shown signs of affecting saiyans yet, but the virus could always mutate. And even if it didn't, a world with only two people is not one I'd look very forward to living in. I didn't want to leave. But I had to. I wanted to leave the last time Trunks took off for this timeline, but he wouldn't let me. It's my turn to save the world. I don't want to return to find my friends and family dead. Will you help me?"  
  
Her earnest plea stirred their souls, and every person in the room had risen without a second thought and agreed to help.  
  
"Honey, of course we will. And you'll stay with us until we are done." The blonde looked, the eyes, some filled with tears for her situation, others for her. The love coming from those eyes lifted a burden from her heart, and she felt the joy rush in. A tear slid down her cheek, which she hastily wiped away; only to have another soon follow.  
  
"Stop crying brat, of course we already said we'll help."  
  
"Oh Vegetable- head!" she ran over to Vegeta and jumped into his arms, giving him chase kisses of joy on his cheeks. He stiffened from the unexpected show of affection and maladroitly dropped her. The stifling of laughter could be heard. Vegeta humped. 'That's something Pan would do,' he thought.  
  
The girl giggled, now from her spot on the floor unperturbed. Trunks stood near the balcony doors, his arms crossed, a pang of jealousy for his father's extra attention from her evident in his eyes.  
  
"Shouldn't we start looking?" he inquired trying to get as far away from that moment as quickly as possible.  
  
"Look out the doors you're standing in front of Trunks." Gohan's voice always one of reason. The stars were now out, a very pretty quarter moon shone, showing off as the goddess of the night. " It would be easier if we started in the morning.  
  
Marron offered a hand to the girl who was still on the floor. "Why'd you wait so long to tell us?"  
  
Accepting the hand, she stood up. "Because you would all be out helping me against my wishes."  
  
"What?"  
  
The blonde now had everyone's attention again. She brushed a stray strand out of her face.  
  
"Tell me this: If I had told you my predicament when I first arrived would you have gone out to look for the flowers, even if I asked you not to go today?"  
  
There was silence for a moment. Eighteen was the first to respond. "I owe Mirai Bulma and Mirai Trunks a lot. If you, someone I hadn't met before told you not to go help them, I'd still go." 'After I gave you a good swift kick in the ass,' she mentally added. The others nodded in agreement.  
  
"Well, had you gone today you would've found something you wouldn't like. And while you could go tomorrow, I suggest you train because that's where I'll be."  
  
Another chorus of 'what's resounded. She hushed them all with one stern look. "I can't explain how I know this. I guess I inherited my mother's telepathic powers. But when I first woke up in your lab, something deep inside told me not to tell you guys anything yet. I waited, and as the day went on, it was revealed to me why. Something is coming, and you aren't ready for it yet. The flowers can wait. We all need to train."  
  
Murmurs arose form this. She searched their eyes once more, for as her mother once told her, the eyes can never hide what a person is feeling. Some were scared and apprehensive. The blonde yawned and stretched.  
  
"I'm sleepy."  
  
Bulma finally ficked on a light. "One more question for the night."  
  
"Shoot," she replied.  
  
"Girl, what is your name?"  
  
The previous murmurs immediately ceased. The blonde looked as if deep in thought. Should she tell them, answer truthfully? It wouldn't have been as issue if it weren't for Vegeta. Somehow she knew he already suspected. 'Those saiyan princes are too damn smart,' she thought, with a smile.  
  
"What's so funny brat?"  
  
"Nothing Veggie-kun." She yawned again, ignoring the eager faces of those around her, awaiting her answer. It had truly been a long day.  
  
"My name is-"  
  
A huge explosion cut her off, shaking the very foundations of the Capsule Corp. domicile.  
  
"What the hell was that?"  
  
It had been a long day, and it proved to be an even longer night.  
  
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	7. Chapter 7 No, not really

Wow, I was 15 when I posted this story, and then I went off to college and forgot all about it. So sorry. I am surprised by the number of reviews I've gotten, because this story is- really bad. That's the euphemistic review of one very blunt reviewer. But hey, they were being honest and truthful. On the other hand, I was 15, give me a break.

I don't know if I'm going to some serious rewriting here, or call it quits and start something else afresh. To be honest, I've forgotten what I had in store for my protagonist, and her relationship to Trunks. But I'll sit on it, and if anyone out there has any opinion on the matter, besides that the story is bad, I'm open to it.

Thank you so much to all that have read and reviewed. It is greatly appreciated, and please check up and see if I have posted anything new. I'll email anyone who really cares.

Until next time, koneko212


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